Through The Dark // Larry Stylinson

Chapter 3

Louis' POV

I ran off stage with Liam and Niall rushing closely behind me. Harry stayed out for a bit to wave a wee bit more and slowly walked off stage after us. Liam and Niall didn't seem to notice when I stopped in my tracks to wait for Harry. They were in a dead sprint race to the dressing rooms.

Harry snuck one side glance at me and walked straight past me like he hadn't even seen me in the first place. His larger than life smile had left as soon as he stepped off the stage. What was going on?

It was obvious that something was bothering Harry. He walked right into his dressing room backstage and slammed the door shut. The sound of the heavy door echoed all through the open air hall and probably even onto the street where thousands of people were filing out to their cars, waiting parents or whatever.

I hesitated as I walked up to the door and heard Harry yell in frustration. The sound of breaking glass and more yelling could be heard from where I stood ten feet away from the door. I gently shook the door handle to find it had been locked. Something was seriously wrong here. Harry was never one to unleash his anger on others. Mostly just objects. When he got angry, it was actually quite frightening.

"Harry? Babe?"

"What Lou?" He spat.

"Harry let me in."

"Or what? I really don't want to talk right now. Go away." He was leaning against the opposite side of the door now, exactly as I was. He was breathing heavily and I heard the faint traces of sobs.

I couldn't come up with anything to say that would help him. I wasn't even completely sure what was actually bothering him. What was I supposed to do? Guess?

"Harry, I think you need to talk to me right now. Don't you?"

After a long moment of tense silence and what sounded like faint sobs from behind the door, Harry turned the lock and cracked the door open. He stepped away and kept his head down as I gasped and took in the scene.

First, there was Harry. He had his broad shoulders slumped and one arm was hanging by his side while the other was behind his back. His eyes were red and puffy, I now had no doubt in my mind that he had been crying. He was leaned up against a blank white wall scattered with spots of red.

Harry had smashed the giant mirror in the dressing room with his own, usually gentle, fist. Glass shards were scattered around the room. On the floor, the single armchair and the huge couch which took up half the room.

He started to sob again as I looked around the room in disbelief. How could someone so gentle and loving do this? I stepped towards Harry and winced when He held out his hand to show me his swollen, bloody knuckles. I held his hand away from his shaking body and leaned into him so he could cry into my shoulders. I felt his now muffled cries wetting my black muscle tank, already sweaty from the show. I started to pick out the pieces of glass embedded in his skin. If they didn't come out soon, they would surely get infected. I was deathly afraid of anything else harming him.

Harry cried quiet sobs and waited fairly patiently as I got out as much of the glass as I could from his hand. When I was done, he pushed us away from the wall to the only corner of the room that wasn't soiled with glass.

He wrapped his uninjured arm around my waist and his bloody hand went around my shoulders. Not like I cared about my shirt anyway. How could I? I was still trying to see what was happening. He held me ferociously tight in his strong arms. They seemed to be weaker now because his whole body was still violently trembling. I wrapped both my arms tightly around his waist and planted my head on the top of his. He was hunched over so much that I was standing taller than him for once.

"I'm... So... Sorry..." He said taking short breaths through hiccups. He pulled back from his crushing hold and stared at me with scared eyes and trembling lips.

"Sorry for what?" I asked, genuinely curious to hear his response."

"For being a faggot. For being weird and abnormal. For being different than everyone wants me to be. For being in love with you. For not wanting to hide myself anymore Louis!" He had started in a whisper and escalated quickly to a loud rant. His face was back into my collar bone.

"Well I don't think you need to apologize to me for being a faggot Harry. Obviously I'm okay with it." I whispered and softly laughed. Maybe I could calm him down.

"Louis shut up. Really." He said flatly, speaking into my shoulder. I could feel the warm rises and falls of his lips on my black muscle tank.

"Louis why are you doing this? You can get someone to do it on the bus later." He said hoarsely between hiccups. His face looked deep with sadness and despair.

"Because I love you more than anything and I don't want anyone taking my place. I'm perfectly capable of getting glass out of my boyfriend's freaking hand Harold." I told him and then kissed the top of his head.

I really did not want to talk about this here. The whole place had security cameras all around. They were literally everywhere we looked, apart from in the dressing rooms and bathrooms.

"Kiss me Louis." He whispered. He pulled away again and looked into my eyes in the way that made me melt. My yearning pushed aside, I couldn't. I didn't want to risk anyone or any cameras seeing us the way we actually were. I didn't want anyone see us being ourselves.

The tour bus would be a much better place to talk to Harry and make some sense out of this whole situation. Besides, there was already a ton of people probably waiting for us to get on the bus. We had to drive to Vancouver tonight for the next show in two or three days, I had forgotten how many exactly.

"Let's take the quiet bus tonight, yeah?" I said with a certain urgency in my voice. I mouthed the word "cameras" to Harry and gestured to the ones located outside the slightly ajar door.

He nodded quickly through sniffs and took his hands away to wipe his nose while I wiped away the tears from under his eyes with my thumbs. He closed his eyes while I wiped the corners of his beautiful green orbs and the line of thick eyelashes on top. This was our usual routine when one of us cried. The cryer had to wipe their nose and calm down while the other wiped his boyfriend's eyes.

Once done, I took a step back from Harry and gave him a cloudy, troubled half smile. He took heavy breaths as he stepped back towards me and locked his fingers with mine.

I walked him over to the door and pushed it open for the both of us. As we stepped out into the open air hallway, I still had a white knuckle grip on Harry's left hand. The one that hadn't been bloodied by an expensive, floor to ceiling mirror. I honestly didn't care if anyone walking around saw us.

Let them know. Let the world know. I was in love with Harry Styles. I didn't want to hide anymore.

Sorry for giving you that vision of Haz. This was really hard to write but I felt like I needed something to show how deeply he is struggling at this point so early on. Please stay with me and Thanks for reading!